Between the never-ending homework, stressful exams, peer pressure and gossip, it’s a wonder anyone gets through high school with their sanity intact. Some don’t. Most will escape with a few scars from bad test scores and dates gone wrong, but otherwise unscathed.

Many successful individuals get through high school thanks to a coping method. This may be a favorite television show, athletics or the expressive release of a favorite art form. It could be found in the pages of a good book, where I have often discovered sanctuary. But while some prefer to turn to electronics for companionship when high school becomes frustrating and lonely — burning their eyes out with hour after hour of video games and whatnot — my personal stress relief is most often found in the warm touch of a furry friend.

My family has kept a number of diverse animals over the past several years. Cats, hamsters, a dog. Fish. Too many fish. All of them have been great pets in their own, unique respects.

Except maybe the fish. You can’t hold a fish.

I can’t say I remember much about the cats. They came before the fish, and the one I do remember had a talent for making itself invisible.

My mom’s dog, Yogi, is an 8-pound mess of black fur with enough energy to run our appliances. He always has something to say about anything and everything, particularly visitors, food, and neighboring pets.

The hamsters belonged to my younger sister, who earned her first pet by entering a contest some years ago. Their cage was always an architectural marvel, since my sister and father took great pleasure in those colorful plastic tubes you can get at pet stores. Though I didn’t have much to do with her rodent friends, I suppose I owe them some thanks. I used the hamsters as leverage when I first tried to convince my parents to allow me to buy my first guinea pig.

I’ve kept guinea pigs since acquiring my first in the seventh grade — a chubby creature with red coarse hair named Aragon. Of course, we learned after naming her she was a girl, not a boy as we had assumed. Naturally, Aragon was lonely, so we got her a couple of friends — Arya and Nasuada.

They were not without their quirks. Arya suffered a chronic cold and I swear Nasuada was schizophrenic, but Aragon was quite possibly the sweetest creature on the face of the planet. Everyone loved her. It was her death which prompted us to attend our first guinea pig show — yes, such things really exist — where we met Jaxom, our first male.

You can probably guess where the story goes from there.

I have been avidly showing long-haired guinea pigs ever since. One of Jaxom’s daughters, Lloth, was named a grand champion by the American Cavy Breeders Association after she swept shows for several consecutive months. The prizes are nice, and winning is exciting, but my favorite part of raising my animals is still the companionship they offer.

There is something special about an animal’s affection — they love unconditionally. No matter how terrible school or work was, animals are always happy when their owners come home at the end of the day. Their trusting eyes remind us of the good parts of life. They never complain, never ask for a day off, and never respond to a stupid comment with a cruel remark. They always smile for friends and dislike mean strangers. They’re always your biggest fan.

And, of course, they’re always willing to take the blame for missing homework.

Emma Penrod is a junior at Tooele High School.